#I FINALLY stopped feeling exhausted all the time over my week off for Christmas and now. back to the same old same old I guess.
Note
Hi!!!
Could you do a Chris Evans x autistic child daughter reader where shes finished school for the holidays either Christmas or summer and she’s struggling with the routine change?
THANKS LOVE YOU MWAH
The holidays are here, the routines are out
Chris Evans x autistic daughter
Summary: finally the holidays are here, school is out and so is the routine. Chris helps reader though the struggle of routine change.
It was finally December 17th, school was out for the holidays. Three long weeks of social events and recuperation it couldn’t come sooner the relief that left your face was comforting for you dad to but he knew that with the relief came the hardship of the dreaded routine change.
Like clockwork you are up at 7am on the dot ready to go though your morning routine, by 8 it was blueberry pancakes in the kitchen for breakfast. Something was off you could sense it, you knew it was the holidays but where was your dad… you thought, that thought was soon shook off when you noticed the time. Finishing the rest of you breakfast like it was going to disappear.
You were late. You were never late. Routine it’s my routine, it’s good.
That was what tipped you over the edge. No one could ever predict how badly routine changes would affect you it was always different.
So when Chris heard a sobbed scream from the kitchen he knew the realisation had hit for you. Sprinting like his life depended on it with sleep still ever present, in his joggers that he went to bed in he got to the kitchen in 5 seconds but it felt like 5 minutes.
Gripping you softly, as to not make you hurt yourself, he murmurs “breathe for me baby, breathe.”
Hyperventilating the slow steady rise and fall of the hard object your sloped against in a exhausted pile of yourself. Slowly you come back to your senses the ringing stops, the dizziness fades. It’s your dad the lifeline you always came back to.
“Hey sweetie, you don’t have to say anything but how about we talked about a routine for the holidays, you can work on some coursework whilst I work in my office if you want to - if you think it’ll help.” Chris says noting your quiet exhausted demeanour. He knew routine was essential for you to keep some sort of grasp on reality.
“Huh, yeah that sounds good dad, thank you for always being the level head whilst I’m all wobbly and out of sorts.” A small smile formed on your face.
It made Chris’ heart flood with relief.
“My pleasure sweetheart.” He lightly kisses her forehead.
A couple of days later the plan previously mentioned was underway and it seemed to be working really well. It not only made Chris smile it made you feel content and like you had a hold of something.
Sometimes if you needed it you would go on the daily dog walk in the morning with dodger and your dad, just to get out of the same “4 walls” that sometimes drove you nuts.
But all in all the holidays were always the best regardless of if the routine was out.
Finally finally, she’s back.
I’m gonna get straight to it, I might be leaving again in a weeks time ( I don’t know i literally just get an email telling me it drives me insane) but I thought whilst I really have masses of downtime here is the first ask after a long hiatus!
Thank you so much to @remuslupinsdaughter for this ask and girl I get you! I hope you all enjoy and please don’t hesitate to send in asks and reblog!!
Tag list:
@f0rehead-0f-security @positivelyholland @angelbaby-fics @angelbabydoll28 @ace-of-gay @velvetcloxds @reginaphalange2403 @buckybarnesandmarvel @writersblog20 @youre-amazing-say-it @dumb-fawkin-bitch @imyourbratzdoll @nana1000night @f10werfae @full-timephoebefanatic @jessybarnes @bergarasunsolved @haleybr @yelenasdiary @babyhatesreality @lu-morningstar @lyrarodriguez @remuslupinsdaughter @mxssingmemories @sarahrogersevans @callsign-revenge @kaeissupergae @mxltifangxrl @sergeantbarnessdoll @maximeverstappen @eulalielatibule @megalony
#chris evans fanfic#autistic!reader#chris evans x autistic reader#autistic spectrum#daughter! reader#fluff#chrisevansdaughter online 💖#chrisevansdaughter moots#chrisevansdaughter loves 💖❤️#chris evans daughter#chrisevansdaughter#chrisevansdaughter speaks 🫶🏻
71 notes
·
View notes
Text
Plus-One // Lewis Hamilton
You stared at the envelope laying mockingly on the counter in front of you. You couldn’t believe it! Your cheating ex-boyfriend actually had the gall to invite you to his wedding … to the woman he cheated on you with.
Having moved on with your life, you could safely say that you did not miss him at all. That didn’t stop you from still being pissed at the way he disrespected you and the way that the so-called friends you shared blindly sided with him in the aftermath.
He made you feel worthless, placing the blame on you for being too plain and too frigid. And you actually believed him for a while. Until you met the man who spent every day since he first laid eyes on you proving just how priceless you really are.
Technically, it’s more accurate to say that your Cocker Spaniel met Roscoe while both dogs were being taken for a walk and it was love at first sight for them. Laughing at how your dogs hit it off, Roscoe’s owner introduced himself and invited you to join them for lunch at a local dog-friendly vegan cafe.
That’s how, two years later, you found yourself traveling the world with two dogs and one Sir Lewis Hamilton. The F1 season meant that you spent a good portion of the year away from home and so it was only during summer shutdown that you finally had time to go back to the Monaco condo that you shared with your boyfriend and look through the giant pile of accumulated mail. Hidden in the middle of the mess of letters was an unassuming envelope postmarked from your parents a few months ago. Opening it revealed the envelope you were currently staring at.
The wedding invitation was originally sent to your parents’ house three months ago (which made sense as your ex-boyfriend had no way of knowing where you currently lived). You were willing to bet that he had no idea just how far you’d come since you found him in bed with another woman and unless he was a frequent subscriber to F1 WAG update pages, he likely had no idea who you were dating. Evidently, he invited you to his wedding just to rub it in your face.
Lewis walked into the kitchen to find you sitting at the island trying to burn the invitation with your mind, “What’s wrong, love?”
“Remember when I told you about my douche of an ex?”
“The idiot who cheated on you?”
“Yes,” you raged at his audacity. “Apparently he invited me to his wedding to the same woman he was cheating with.”
“Okay,” Lewis took the invitation from you and read it over, ever the rational one when off the grid. “Here’s what you’re going to do: you’re going to RSVP and check off that you’re bringing a plus-one with you.”
“But-“
“No buts. It will be after the end of the season. We’re going to pull up and show him just how much better off you are without him. We’re going to make him regret ever hurting you like that.”
You stood up and kissed him in thanks, “I couldn’t have asked for a better boyfriend.”
His eyes raked over your form, even exhausted after a long plane ride back to Monaco, he still made you feel like the most beautiful woman on earth, “You’ve already upstaged the bride and you’re not even trying.”
Fast-forward to a week before Christmas, one month after Lewis won his eighth world championship title, and you were making the finishing touches to your makeup in a hotel suite near the wedding venue.
“Lew,” you called over your shoulder, “can you please come help me zip up my dress?”
He came up behind you and ran his hands over your back, pulling up your zipper and sending chills throughout your body.
“Gorgeous,” he kissed behind your ear. “Exquisite,” he turned you around and kiss along your jawline.
You met his lips, “I love you. Thank you for everything.”
“And I love you. Every man at the wedding is going to be jealous that I get to have you on my arm tonight.”
The wedding was an experience from the moment you pulled up to the valet and the teenager who ran up to collect your car caught sight of Lewis. He drove to park your Mercedes with shaking hands and a fresh Lewis Hamilton autograph across his company branded cap.
It was a little bizarre when most of the guests were more focused on your boyfriend than the groom at the altar or the bride making her way down the aisle, but the two of you resolved to gracefully sit together, the picture of quiet elegance. Luckily, you sat far enough back at the ceremony to escape your ex-boyfriend’s notice which will make the moment he finally sees you all that much sweeter.
You zoned out while the officiant droned on and on, focusing on Lewis tracing little shapes along your thigh, only snapping back to attention at “you may now kiss the bride.”
The two of you joined the rest of the guests as they filed out of the ceremony space and into the ballroom for the reception, once again the subject of stares as they tried to figure out whether your boyfriend was who they thought he was, and made your way to your assigned table.
You sighed as you realized that you were going to be surrounded by the “friends” who blamed you for the break up and made excuses for why your ex cheated. You whispered as much in Lewis’ ear.
He pulled you closer, “it’ll be fine, love. I’m here with you.”
As the table filled up, it seemed like the rest of the occupants were too preoccupied with your boyfriend to actually realize that he was seated next to you. But you were feeling particularly petty.
“Hello,” you inclined your head with a slight smirk. “It’s nice to you see again.”
They did a double take.
Amy, who you once thought was your best friend, stuttered out a broken, “Y/N?”
“Hi, Amy! How’s it going since you told me that it was understandable that he cheated because I ‘never put out!’”
She didn’t reply, eyes jumping between you and Lewis.
“Oh, this is my boyfriend, Lewis.”
He gave a curt “hello” and raised your entwined hands to his lips.
James, another one of the friends who once betrayed you called out from the other end of the table, “You and LEWIS HAMILTON?”
“Yes, that is my boyfriend’s name last time I checked.”
James continued to run his mouth, “never took you for a gold-digger but I can’t say I’m surprised.”
Lewis interjected before you could even say anything, “Y/N is the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. If anyone’s punching above their weight, it’s me. She’s the one who’s out of my league. It’s not her fault the lot of you were too stupid to appreciate her.”
Amy’s boyfriend, who must be new because they weren’t together when you last saw her, tried to ask for an autograph as the table fell into tense silence but Lewis wasn’t having it.
You really loved your boyfriend.
Later that night after the first dance, Lewis went up to the bar to get you some drinks, first making sure that you would be fine alone for a few minutes.
Someone must have it out for you because that’s also when the newlyweds decided to start making their rounds and when your ex finally noticed you.
“Y/N! You actually showed up. Didn’t think you had it in you to watch us get married,” he sneered. “But it looks like your plus-one bailed on you.”
A glass of champagne was placed by your plate before familiar arms wrapped around you from your back, the smell of Lewis’ cologne instantly comforting you. “Her plus one’s right here.”
You could’ve sworn your ex looked less shocked when you walked in on him that faithful day. “But-but you’re Lewis Hamilton?”
You decided to join in on the fun, “really? I had noooo idea.” You turned to face your boyfriend, “why didn’t you tell me that you’re Lewis Hamilton?”
You turned back towards your ex, “and by the way, the next time you have to send me something, you can mail it to our penthouse in New York or our villa in London or our condo in Monaco or our apartment in Nyon.”
You reached for Lewis’ hand as an upbeat song came on, not letting your ex get in a word edgewise, “come on Lew, let’s dance.”
As Lewis led you to the dance floor, you couldn’t help but be thankful for your ex because if he wasn’t such a moron you probably would have never met the love of your life.
#f1#f1 blurb#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 rpf#f1blr#f1 x reader#f1 x you#lh44#lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton fluff#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton blurb#mercedes amg f1#formula one#formula 1#lewis hamilton fic
923 notes
·
View notes
Text
star.
&&. there's nothing better than coming home to your partner, especially after a tiring day.
pairing: lee donghyuck x m!reader
genre: fluffy fluff
warnings: none!
word count: 0.6k
notes: merry christmas everybody 😊!!! i hope your all having a good day and got gifts you liked (and if you didn't it's okay let's cry together), so i made this thing with absolutely nothing but haechan haechan haechan in my mind, take this writing from the shelf of my heart ❤️
when donghyuck comes home, it's quiet.
on most days, that's usually how it goes. y/n's classes almost always end much later than his, expect for on friday's, which, wouldn't you know, is today. so when it's quiet as he enters his shared dorm, and that's what's confusing to me. "y/n?"
no response, donghyuck doesn't push it, because he's tired, and maybe y/n just didn't hear him. so, he takes off his jacket and sets down his stuff, locking the door behind him.
"y/n?" he calls again, louder this time. when he doesn't get an answer again, he starts to get just a little worried. is y/n home? it's friday.
instead of calling his name again, donghyuck walks down the hall, and comes face to face with the closed door of y/n's room. he knocks once, no answer, he knocks twice, no answer again.
donghyuck opens the door, peaking from behind it, and that's when he sees it.
the reason y/n hadn't been answering his calls is because he's sleeping! donghyuck sees him at his desk, computer in front of him, snoring quietly as he lies in his arms. he closes the door softly and steps into the room.
he's sleeping so peacefully, and donghyuck can tell he definitely didn't plan on sleeping because of the way his computer is still open to youtube, he sees his notebook wide open with notes on the page, not even finished.
he was tired from classes all day and decided to take more notes? donghyuck doesn't really know why some of the stuff that goes through his head goes through his head.
he doesn't immediately wake him up, just steps beside him and runs his fingers through his soft hair. y/n just always looks so peaceful whilst sleeping, and donghyuck's not creepy he just finds himself watching his partner sleep a lot, that's all.
"mmh.. hyuck?"
donghyuck smiles, and y/n shakes his head just a little bit, slowly opening his eyes. "hi".
"hi" y/n gives a tired smile.
y/n rubs his eyes, then slowly sits up, looking up at his boyfriend. "how long did i sleep for?" he asks, donghyuck assumes a long time, because he looks much more well rested than he did at the beginning of the week.
"oh i came back just now.. i'm not sure how long you've been sleeping".
"ah" y/n's eyes begin to shift again, and he looks like he's about to go back to sleep. the week has been tiring, full of studying, exams, and pressure to keep up his grades, he's exhausted.
"you work too much" donghyuck tells him, he tucks y/n's hair behind his ear, and he closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling of his boyfriend's hands playing with his hair.
"you always say that".
"it's true.. look at you" donghyuck whispers, he continues playing with y/n's hair, pretty much coaxing him back into sleep. y/n is getting sleepy all over again, and all thanks to donghyuck just playing with his hair. "my hardworking baby" he giggles, cupping y/n's cheeks.
"okay stop.." he mutters, lightly pushing him away. "if you put me back to sleep i won't be able to sleep at night which i kinda need to do".
"why? it's a friday".
"work tomorrow".
donghyuck just then remembers, and a pout graces his face. y/n recognizes that face, because he sees it every morning when crawling out of bed to go attend his morning shift. "don't give me that look".
y/n, after years of sitting down, contemplating the idea, finally stands up, still tired. he yawns, and looks over at his boyfriend, whose still pouting. "stop".
donghyuck snickers, throwing his arms around his partner. "your always leaving me" he whines, burying his face into his partner's neck.
"let go of me, hyuck!"
"no!"
he indeed, did not let go.
#lee donghyuck#haechan#lee haechan#nct#nct 127#nct dream#nct imagines#nct drabbles#nct scenarios#haechan imagines#haechan drabbles#haechan scenarios#lee donghyuck x reader#lee donghyuck x male reader#haechan x reader#haechan x male reader#𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!
71 notes
·
View notes
Text
this isn’t finished but I wanted to post it for Xmas eve!!!! (Even though here it finishes soon). I will post the completed version soon!!!
This is part of the two sinners world
Gator has a Xmas present at readers house
18+ only!!! Mdni
Ok seeing Gator on Christmas Day is out of the question. He’s spending the day with Glenda and Roy reciting their favourite psalms and thanking the lord for a bountiful Christmas. Glenda goes all out at Christmas, it’s obviously her favourite holiday and she constantly updates her Facebook with pictures of a content looking Roy and an exhausted looking Gator. No doubt, Glenda will have made him a piece of her artwork and bought him some novelty socks. He’ll smile at her and press a kiss to her cheek but you rejoice in the knowledge that thoughts of your Christmas Eve are running through his head.
[sent at 13:30] You: got your Christmas present at my house. Door will be unlocked for when you finish at 6. I’ll be upstairs 🎁
[received at 13:42] Gator💩🐍: am i on the nice list?
[sent at 13:43] You: no. See you at 6 💋
***
His Christmas present is you- OBVIOUSLY. But it’s a version of you that Gator only really gets when he begs and even then, you don’t always give it him. He asks for this when you eat his ass or when he’s had a week of basically getting non stop shit from his daddy or Glenda.
He wants you to be in control and dominate him.
You’re wearing a red lace set with garters and pointy red heels. It’s nearly pitch black by the time Gator arrives. You’ve left on one lamp downstairs to guide him up but honestly he knows the layout of your home like the back of his hand. In the bedroom, your curtains are open with the twinkling of outdoor Christmas lights provide occasional flickers that illuminate your bed sheets. A cinnamon candle is glowing by the door and nearly blows out when Gator enters as dramatic as ever.
You’re sat at the end of the bed waiting for him and you smirk as you take in his expression- seemingly enthralled by your red look.
“Crawl to me, baby” your voice is low and by the way Gator drops to his knees without hesitation- you already know how tonight is going to go.
He’s slow in his movement, keeping eye contact with you as he crawls towards your open legs and stopping a few inches from your panties. His eyes are fixed on the damp spot on your red underwear and the shuddering breaths are filling the room. You run your hands through his slicked back hair as you try not to recoil at the unnatural feeling of brushing your nails through hair gel.
“Y’wanna taste?” He looks up at you with the most love sick eyes you’ve ever seen, he nods slowly as he brushes his tongue over his bottom lip. You grip his hair in your hand as you push him into your panties, “make me cum with my panties still on baby- y’don’t deserve to taste properly just yet”. He groans as he pushes his face further into your pussy. He’s messy with it and you can feel his spit dripping down between your legs. It feels so good and the knowledge that he’s desperate to please you brings you closer and closer to the edge.
“Take my panties off and make me cum on your tongue Gator, don’t let me down” you throw your head back on the bed as you feel Gator rip your panties down your legs and throw them across the room. He’s that desperate to make you cum he’s moaning into your pussy as he eats you out and you know he’s palming himself over his cargos. Your back arches as you clamp your thighs around Gator’s head and cry out as you cum.
He’s pressing hot kisses to your thighs as your pussy clenches around nothing, you can feel your breathing begin to regulate again as you come down from your high. Your hand smoothes over his ruffled hair, “that was so good Gator. You did such a good job…good to know you can do something right”. His smile drops at your final sentence. You stand on trembling legs and go to your closest to get the box that Gator both wants and dreads.
You can hear him kicking off his boots and unzipping his cargos.
“Did I tell you to get undressed?”
“No but uh- I thought…”
You softly kiss him, tasting the remnants of your cum on his plush lips. “Don’t think baby, I know how hard that can be for you. Just lie on the bed dressed how you are now- hands above your head”.
#gator tillman fanfic#gator tillman fic#gator tillman smut#gator x reader#gator tillman#fargo fx#fargofx#fargo season 5#fargoedit#fargo#roy tillman#joe keery x reader#joe keery smut#joe keery#gator tillman x fem!reader#two sinners works
55 notes
·
View notes
Text
Reckoning
Book: Open Heart (Book 2 Timeline)
Characters: Tobias Carrick & Casey, Aurora Emery
Rating: Teen
Words: 2,000
Series Summary: Found here
Chapter Summary: A few months after the chemical attack, a friend at Mass Kenmore gives Tobias a good-natured ribbing, and then Aurora offers him some advice.
A/N: I'm getting there, y'all! I'm close to sharing exactly how these crazy kids finally get together! It's only been three years in the making! lol I'm not sure how much interest there is in this anymore, but I can tell you this, I'm elated that I'm finally getting it done! 😊
The timing of this story is just after Christmas Through Your Eyes: Part One - A Proposition (I'll be working on their masterlist to make it more understandable this weekend. 😊)
With Warning Masterlist
Tobias x Casey Masterlist || My Full Masterlist
Inside, it was a typical morning at Mass Kenmore, but the thunderstorm raging just outside the window made the stark white walls and fluorescent lighting feel more like a refuge. The familiar sounds of staff chatting and announcements over the PA were almost soothing, and Tobias couldn't have felt more at home behind his desk. Aurora sat before him, and while she was a relative newcomer to Kenmore, she, too, was at ease as the two doctors met to review morning rounds. They were discussing their final case when a knock interrupted them.
"Come in," Tobias yelled, and in bopped Amanda, a nursing supervisor whose tenure equaled Dr. Carricks. Her bouncing chestnut brown curls and glossy-lipped smile elevated the room's mood even before she held up two cups of Tradesman coffee.
"Hey, there!" she beamed. "I haven't seen you in forever, so I thought I'd bring you some..."
She stopped short when Aurora looked up from her seat, politely nodding before turning back to her laptop.
"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't realize you were having a meeting. I'll just leave this for you." She placed the coffee on Tobias's desk. "We'll catch up another time."
"Tradesman," Tobias grinned. "Now that's my coffee. Why don't you wait, Mandy? We're wrapping up. I should be free in fifteen minutes."
"In fifteen minutes, I'll be starting my rounds with two interns in tow. Maybe after work? Will you be at the Puddingstone tonight?”
The week had been busy, and one day melded into another. Peeking at his calendar, Tobias confirmed it was Wednesday - Casey's therapy night. He always drove her there, and on weeks when fate smiled on him, he’d share dinner with her, too.
"No can do," he frowned. "Tomorrow?"
"I’m off Thursdays. Maybe sometime this weekend?”
But he and Casey had plans. “Maybe Sunday night if I’m not exhausted.”
“Dear God, Carrick,” Amanda laughed. “When did you become such a hot commodity!”
Aurora tried to stifle a giggle but still caught Tobias’s attention.
“Yes,” he droned. “Are there comments from the peanut gallery?”
Aurora shrugged indifferently, her expression unreadable. “It’s just that rumor around here is that you were always a hot commodity.”
“Very funny,” he grumbled as Amanda broke into laughter.
“He was!” She jumped in. “Which is why I don’t understand why it’s suddenly so hard to see him.”
“I’ve just had a lot going on,” he replied nervously. “But things should settle down soon, and then I’m sure that....”
Ignoring Tobias, Amanda peered at Aurora. “Word on the street is he has a girlfriend! Can you believe that?”
“Amanda!” He barked. “Stop. That’s not true.”
“Well, how would I know?” she teased. “I never see you anymore, so it’s not like I’m privy to what’s going on in your life.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he mumbled. “It’s just...”
“You don’t have to explain,” the nurse interrupted. I don’t care —no one does. We’re all just glad that the grumpy period you had a few months back is over. It was so uncharacteristic! I’m happy to see you smiling again. I’d like to see that smile over drinks at the Puddingstone on occasion, but I digress.”
Tobias turned to an amused Aurora. “Go back to Edenbrook, Emery. It seems working here comes with a side of abuse.”
“Abuse?” Amanda chortled. “Dear God, Carrick. You don’t know what abuse is.” With a shake of her head, she turned toward the door, looking back over her shoulder before leaving the room.
“Lunch soon?”
“Sure,” Tobias nodded, eager for her to leave.
“Bye, Aurora,” Amanda winked. “Maybe you can get the truth out of him.”
The door shut, and Aurora dutifully returned to work, doing her best to conceal her cryptic smile. But Tobias wasn't letting it go.
“What?” Tobias grumbled.
She raised her eyes inquisitively but ensured her face gave nothing away. “What... what? I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to. You’re thinking something... what is it?”
“You really want to know?” she deadpanned.
“I asked.”
She closed her laptop and placed it to her side, crossing her hands atop her lap before she began.
“Before I begin. Is this conversation between Dr. Emery and her boss, Dr. Carrick? Or Aurora and her friend, Tobias?”
“You consider me a friend?” he smirked.
“That might depend on the outcome of this conversation, but for now... yes, I do.”
“Then, sit back and relax,” he grinned. “Because I’m asking you as a friend.”
“All right... what's the deal with you and Casey?”
“Oh, right to the point, I see!”
“Yep,” Aurora nodded. “And I’d appreciate you being just as direct... so? What’s the deal?”
“Deal? There is no deal.”
“Uh-huh,” she responded, picking up her laptop again. “If you’re going to bullshit me, I’m going back to work.”
Aurora had no problem with doing that, but Tobias couldn't get his mind back on work if he tried.
“I mean it. We’re friends—just friends," he continued. I don’t know why this is so difficult for everyone to accept.”
She closed her laptop again, this time with a deliberately smug gaze.
“She’s my friend, too, Tobias. Just my friend... but I don’t have to go around making that declaration. Normally, you don’t... when you're just friends, that is.”
Tobias ran a hand down his weary face and began swiveling in his chair. “It’s just getting old...that’s all.”
“What is?”
“No one believing me.... people threatening me about what will happen if I mess with her... I suppose that’s the next thing you’ll be doing, too.”
“Nope,” Aurora shrugged. The last time I checked, you were both consenting adults. What you choose to do together is not my concern.”
“Really,” he said with a raised brow. “Wow! That’s refreshing. I mean... nothing is going on between us... but, theoretically, if there were... you’d be OK with it.”
“I am OK with it.”
“That’s good to... hey, wait. What do you mean you are OK with it... there’s nothing to be OK with!”
Aurora crossed her arms and judgementally shook her head as she assessed him.
“You’re friends?”
“Yes!”
“Do you enjoy spending time with her?”
“Obviously.”
“Do you find her unattractive?”
“What? No! Casey’s beautiful,” he replied without hesitation, and Aurora rewarded him with a know-it-all grin.
“Do you think I’m stupid, Tobias?”
“Of course not!”
“Then it would do you good to remember that I was there. I was with you the day of the attack, from the moment you learned of it until I found you trembling in the chapel when it was over.”
“That’s not fair,” he countered. “That was an extremely difficult day for all of us. As I recall, we were all pretty emotional.”
“Mmm-hmm. But I was also with the two of you when you first met. I had to bear witness to that disgusting animal magnetism you shared from its inception. Kind of gross, actually.”
He chuckled softly, but Aurora was shocked by his reaction. Was the Dr. Carrick... embarrassed?
“Nothing wrong with animal magnetism,” he replied. “But that was... it was a long time ago.”
“IT WAS FIVE MONTHS AGO!” she yelled. “Five months!”
“Yeah,” he replied softly. “But an awful lot has happened in that time... it feels much longer, doesn't it?”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “I’ll give you that. Look, I’m not here to give you grief, but I have eyes. I see you two together, and from where I stand, you make each other happy. I don’t know why you both get so wound up if someone suggests there’s something there. Would it be so horrible if there was?”
“I hurt her. Badly, and not all that long ago.”
“Ah,” she smiled. “But a lot has happened since you met.”
“She’s not interested in me in that way, Aurora. She made that clear, and I... I respect that. I’m not going to violate her boundaries.”
“Mmm-hmm. She told me you’re taking her away this weekend. To show her your hometown. Is that how you're not violating boundaries?”
“I... I just want to see DC at Christmas again. I was going to go alone anyway. I just asked Casey to come along... as a friend. It might be good for her to get away. It's not like we're sharing a room or anything! Ask her! I got a suite because she’s still afraid to be alone at night, but we’re not sharing a room! I’ll be there if she needs me, but I’m not....”
Aurora leaned forward and silenced him with a gentle touch to his wrist. “You know, you say far too many words for someone trying so hard to deny the obvious. You may want to work on that if you want others to believe you.”
Tobias’s face softened, and his composure settled. Aurora could see his defenses coming down.
“This stays here?” He asked pointedly.
Aurora raised three fingers. “Scouts honor. What happens in Carrick’s office stays in Carrick’s office.”
“Casey... she’s incredible,” he sighed. “I knew that from the start, but I still had to go and fuck everything up between us. When she let me back into her life, she made it clear that she only wanted friendship from me. While it may not be easy, I’m honoring that. You should be proud of me... this is growth, Emery.”
“Growth is good,” she smiled. “Honoring boundaries is the right thing, but did it ever occur to you that she may have changed her mind? Did you ever consider she might feel the same way about you?”
“No,” he shook his head. “No, she doesn’t. And even if she did, she’s not in a place to make that kind of decision right now. So...no.”
“You’re right, she’s not. And I am proud of you for realizing that. But that’s today, Tobias, and she’s getting stronger every day. I can see that. I know you do, too. Can you be patient?”
“Historically?” He snorted. “No. Not at all. But now...I am trying.”
Aurora looked at her watch. “I hate to leave you, but I’m supposed to be at a consult with Dr. Ferrera in five minutes. But if you want to continue this talk, I can come by as soon as I’m done.”
“Nah,” he waved. “I’m good... but thank you.”
“Anytime,” she said, gathering her things. But Tobias called for her just before she got to the door.
“Aurora. Why don’t you have reservations about me... you know... aren’t you worried about Casey and... my past?”
“I have reservations about everyone,” she grinned. “But I know you’re not as bad as people make you out to be. As to your past, well, we all have one of those, including those who are threatening you. But, if I don’t want to be judged by my past, so I shouldn’t judge you by yours. Besides, Casey’s a big girl. She’s going through some stuff right now, but she still has a good head on her shoulders. If you guys decide to make a go of it, I’m in your corner.”
Tobias let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I appreciate that. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome... but none of this matters,” she teased. “After all, the two of you are ‘just friends’.”
“Get out of my office,” he joked. “But promise... this stays between us?”
“I’ll take it to my grave... and not only because I want no part of the drama.”
She stepped out of the door, leaving Tobias alone with his thoughts. He closed his eyes, wondering how it was possible to feel so much lighter yet emotionally depleted at the same time. Did he really just admit he had feelings for Casey... to Aurora... and himself? Did he actually say the words out loud?
He stood up with a deep sigh and made his way to the window, pushing the blinds aside to watch the torrential rains pour down on the streets of Boston below. It was a baptism of sorts, the water washing away all impurities, absolving every sin, and when the sun returned, it would be a fresh start. Perhaps it wasn't too much to ask that he might have one, too.
When he returned to his desk, he mindlessly circled the days of their trip on his calendar. Patience. They'd be visiting his hometown... hers, too... surrounded by the magic of the holiday season... and he’d have to do his best to conceal his feelings. Patience. He had to do this... now if he could just figure out how.
@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics
#choices fanfic#open heart#open heart choices#choices open heart#tobias carrick#tobias carrick x mc#tobias x casey#playchoices fanfic
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Good, the bad, and the Ugly
The Good - For Christmas Sheila signed me up for Surly Brewing's Bottle Project. Four times a year I get a limited edition beer. I love limited edition beers.
This week I went to the large brewery and restaurant to pick up the first bottle. There was also a metal water bottle for me. A lot of people there for the same reason. Surly also had a small tasting event for us.
We got to try a sample of what's in that bottle: North, a barleywine ale aged in fernet barrels. Very good.
Then we sampled Tattersall distillery's amaro and fernet, two bitter, aromatic spirits. I liked each, but probably not enough to buy a 750ml bottle of either.
The Bad - Last night I opened the dishwasher to put in a final glass. I peered inside to admire my handiwork before pressing the start button. Nothing caps off the end of my day like starting the dishwasher, then going to bed while it works, and I sleep.
Some people don't care how they load a dishwasher. But I do. I like to imagine things get more clean when the plates are aligned, pieces of silverware all face the same direction, and cups and mugs are thoughtfully placed at an angle where they don't accumulate water if the bottoms are concave.
Feng shui matters in appliances too.
My wife, standing behind me, watched. Earlier, she had turned one plate around. Two plates now faced each other. A good host doesn't seat a left-handed person to the right of a right-handed person. Their elbows will bump. Always something to think about. And plates shouldn't face each other in the dishwasher because... well, just because.
She laughed as I corrected the placement. Then I started the machine and retired to the guest room for the night.
The Ugly - Friends of ours parked a vehicle in our driveway while they were in Mexico for a few weeks. We live not far from the airport and don't mind dropping off people so they don't have to pay for parking. Last night I picked up the couple in their own vehicle.
It's a 29-year-old Jeep Grand Cherokee. At one time this was a very nice, expensive SUV with leather seats, automatic climate control, and other luxury features. The paint had been white, I think.
Today it's their winter beater.
Before I could drive to MSP I had to jump start the Jeep for the second time. I had run it the day before, to make sure it would start, after jump starting it the first time.
To unlock the hood I pulled on Vice Grip pliers that were permanently affixed to a cable under the dashboard.
Once the Jeep was running, it was loud. The exhaust system apparently was vacationing in Mexico too, leaving me with a deep rumbling, rusty Jeep.
Driving along I-494 made me think the road was covered in ice. It was just the Jeep. The right side tires were not in agreement with the left side ones, or the front with the back either. Like four kids fighting in the back seat, except I couldn't hear them over the sound of the exhaust. The power steering didn't work either. Driving in a straight line required two hands at all times and much concentration. What an ingenious way to keep a person from texting while driving.
At the cell phone lot I waited briefly while our friends collected luggage and went through customs. There was no way I was going to shut off the Jeep, for fear it wouldn't start again. So I sat next to two unfortunate drivers who surely could hear and feel the Jeep's exhaust. While stationary, I began to smell that exhaust too. Only my sense of sight was spared from it. Had I seen the toxic gas inside the Jeep I probably would have simply abandoned the vehicle where it was parked.
Finally I picked up the couple in the arrivals section. Traffic was pretty bad. After they were belted in, I tried to leave but was blocked all around. An officer directing traffic must have been tired of the sound, smell, and sight of that Jeep.
He--and I'm not exaggerating--stopped two lanes of traffic, made another car move forward, and directed me to get the Jeep into the far left lane so I could leave. I waved to him in thanks. H probably rolled his eyes.
On the way to my house I good-naturedly remarked about the condition of the Jeep. The wife of the couple laughed, then asked: "You're not writing about this on your blog, are you?"
Of course not.
40 notes
·
View notes
Text
a black mile to the surface ⤞ a black mile (1/5)
Pairing: jeb pyre x f!singlemom!reader
Summary: it's the spring of 1986, and Jeb Pyre is a new man... or at least he's trying to be.
Warnings: single mom! reader, mention of LDS, a touch of angst, two (2) whole OCs, and that's about it!
Words: 2.1k
A/N: chapter one is finally here!!! a pretty short opening chapter but i think the next ones will be a little longer. i'm not entirely sure how i feel about the characterisation yet but this was so fun to write regardless! hope you enjoy :)
request something! masterlist // series masterlist
It's warm in this part of Idaho.
It had been the dead of Winter when Jeb arrived, a week after his first Christmas alone in Salt Lake, snow rolling in off of distant mountains that seemed to melt into the horizon.
They were beautiful, even if they had made the first couple months in his empty little apartment cold ones, coloured by frozen pipes and heavy clouds beyond frosted windows. He could recognise their beauty for beauty's sake, now. He thinks that might be all that matters.
Jeb meets you on the first day of Spring.
There's a warm gust of air as the doors of the station open, something sweet and floral carried in along with it. They had planted fresh flower beds outside the station over the weekend, bright pinks and reds and yellows to greet the new season, and Jeb thinks it must be the light scent of them drifting through until he looks up and realises it's you.
You're holding a huge bouquet of flowers, resting on your hip like a toddler, all white and subtle pink framed by pale craft paper. You smile at the officer at the front desk, seem to ooze a comfort and familiarity rarely seen in a police station, offer a greeting Jeb can't quite make out as you walk past.
Jeb doesn't mean to stare. Or rather, he doesn't mean to be so obvious about it, following your movements through the station with your wide smile and your bright eyes and your friendly waves. He thinks the clock might start ticking a little slower.
For someone staring so much, he doesn't realise you're walking towards his general direction until you're right there, only a few steps away with amused eyes narrowed at him, a gentle smile playing on your lips.
It's only a split second, when you hold his eyes and watch the light blush spread across his cheeks before he scrambles to look down, pretends to return to whatever work had been forgotten the moment you walked in.
He doesn't look up, even if the tug in his chest tells him he needs to, not as you breathe a quiet chuckle or as you stop only a few feet away from his desk, place a gentle knock on the door of his Captain's office. "Delivery," You sing, playful and sarcastic and bright. "Worst husband of the year award."
And Jeb doesn't mean to eavesdrop... But he was a detective, after all. Curiosity was half of the job. "You're a lifesaver, Y/n."
Jeb's first clue is that his Captain had never opened his door that fast in the three months he had worked there. Nor had he ever looked quite so tense, shoulders hunched, eyebrows pinched together, exhaustion etched into the creases of his forehead. The last time Jeb had seen him look this stressed there had been a stabbing on Main Street.
"Yeah, yeah. If your wife kicks you out it's my couch you're gonna be sleeping on, so, you know. Neither of us wants that."
Jeb watches his Captain sigh, runs a hand through his hair, follows the pattern of his receding hairline and the grey that's started to bleed into it. "Still, I owe you big time, seriously."
"Oh, that you definitely do," You beam, undoubtedly smug, pass over the bouquet and move to carefully fix the placement of the flowers as they sit in his arms. "I expect a bottle of the fanciest pinot you can find and unlimited access to your pool for the next six months."
"Done and done."
"Really?" You ask, and even turned almost fully around Jeb can hear the pleasant surprise in your voice. "That was... A lot easier than I expected. Pleasure doing business with you, I'll see you next time."
He ducks his head again as soon as he sees you start to turn, must have been too obvious because he only hears you take a couple of steps before there's silence again. A dim shadow falls over his paperwork, blearing yellow lights of the station blocked away.
"You're new, right?"
Jeb looks up, eyes wide, mouth shaping words that seem to slip out of his grasp as he reaches for them. "Uh, yes. Right."
You smile at him, and Jeb's unsure when he forgot how to act like a human being, only knows that right now his words and the colour of his face are failing him. "Sorry, I just know most of the people around here by now. Small town and everything," You explain, trail off for a moment as you watch him, something edging on fascination creeping into your features, like you were trying to read him, figure him out. You shake your head, seem to catch yourself. "I'm Y/n, by the way. I'm, uh, the Captain's sister."
"Detective Pyre," He introduces, holds his hand out to you before he realises he should be standing. The metal of his chair scrapes against the linoleum, a piercing shriek that earns a couple pointed looks he doesn't have to see to feel directed at him.
You just smile wider, reach out to shake his hand. Your nails are a neat, deep red. "First name Detective, last name Pyre?"
"Jebidiah," He corrects, immediately shakes his head at himself because when has anybody ever called him Jebidiah? "I mean Jeb. People call me Jeb."
You're still trying to bite back your smile as you drop his hand, nod lightly as you move to adjust the strap of your purse on your shoulder. He tells himself it's just the cop in him that notices you're not wearing a wedding ring. Another clue. "Well, Detective Jebidiah Jeb Pyre, it's lovely to meet you."
Jeb opens his mouth, moves to say something his brain hadn't quite formulated yet and finds himself saved by the door of Captain Y/l/n's office swinging open again.
"Y/n," He calls lightly, leaning through the door frame with his phone clutched against his chest.
"Mhm?"
"Jack wants to know if you're still here."
You sigh, bring your wrist up to straighten the face of your watch. "Can you tell him I'll be home in ten?"
There's a quick nod before Captain Y/l/n retreats back into his office
"Sorry," You mutter, turning back to him with a shake of your head. "My son, I'm supposed to be taking him to a soccer practice later."
"You have kids?"
"Just the one, just started high school."
"You seem young to have a son in..." Jeb's saying it before he registers it, doesn't catch himself until he watches the smile creep back onto your face. "Oh, I, uh- I just meant that you-"
"It's okay," You laugh, smile and cheeks undeniably warm. "It's, um. Very flattering that you think so. But I just got married straight out of high school, so..." You trail off, look down for a moment and Jeb thinks he's embarrassed you, that he's already said something stupid to the first person that's been this nice to him in months.
"Hey, I'm from Salt Lake so there's no judgement from me," He tries, earns a surprised breath of a laugh as you look back up at him and- did he just make a... joke?
“Ex LDS?” You ask, still half laughing, and Jeb feels the rush of heat flood his face.
He smiles back, anyway, straightens his tie just to have something to do. “That obvious?”
“Well, if you live around here long enough you figure out the way only ex-LDS seem to talk about it.”
The phone at the front desk rings, draws both of your attention to it for a moment and seems to remind you that you have somewhere to be.
You check your watch again. “I should get going but, uh. It really was nice meeting you, Jeb.”
“Likewise,” He mutters, can’t seem to figure out why he’s suddenly out of breath.
—--
It smells like chlorine all the way in the driveway, like sweat and hot chemicals mingling in the air.
It's a warm day even for Spring, and in accordance with the weather, Jeb can hear the splashes and muffled yells of children emanating from his Captain's backyard.
He tries the front door first, a polite knock followed by a slightly more forceful one after a few ignored minutes. There's a sturdy manila folder in his grasp, the paperwork Captain Y/l/n had promised to finish up even on his day off. It's been almost a year now, but as Jeb absentmindedly taps his fingers against the card he thinks he's still not used to the missing weight of his wedding ring on his finger.
He gives up, before that train of thought gets too far, walks back onto the drive and search for the gate to the back yard.
"Oh, hi there!" There’s a woman greeting him, pitcher of lemonade in hand as she smiles wide and hospitable. "Are you looking for Jonny?"
“Uh, Captain Y/l/n, yes.”
“He should be just over…” The woman turns, scans the yard and Jeb mimics her actions, looks for the familiar face of his Captain and, instead, finds yours.
You're already looking at him, attention seemingly drawn by the exclamation of your sister-in-law, eyes narrowed through the glare of the sun. He doesn't realise you're not wearing anything but a bright red bikini until he's probably been looking back for a little too long, sat at the edge of the pool and kicking your legs slowly through the water as you sit back on your palms.
He was still getting used to this, maybe a little more than some of the other things that were rare sights in Salt Lake. There was a lot more skin, wherever he looked, expanses of it smooth and glowing in the sun and leading down to- Oh... He was definitely staring.
Jeb has to make the conscious effort to tear his eyes away from you, thanks whatever God he still believes in that Captain Y/l/n is already waving him over when he looks up.
He feels overdressed, suddenly, surrounded by damp children and bikini-clad bodies and his Captain wearing nothing but a pair of swim trunks and a bright blue Hawaiian shirt.
Jeb offers him a pinched smile, lifts up his hand in a brief wave before starting across the yard, towards the other side of the house where the Captain waits beside the already open back door.
He almost makes it the whole way across without looking, because he doesn't want to be impolite and because for some reason the sight of you makes his face burn a little hotter under the heat of the sun. He does look, though, unavoidably, because he can feel your eyes on him as he passes and because he can't help himself.
You grin when your eyes finally meet, expression almost triumphant as you bring your hand up to wave, fingers wiggling through the shimmering heat.
There's another woman there, suddenly, in the water beside you and tugging at your leg. It pulls your attention away from him, and Jeb ducks into the house before he can be tempted to look back.
Jeb gets a whole fifteen minutes of work done before there’s a knock on the door of the study.
“Yeah,” The Captain mumbles, still half looking at his paperwork as he lifts his eyes to the slowly opening door.
“Sorry to interrupt, could I steal some records?”
You’re behind him, again, the smooth lilt of your voice floating into the small office.
“Of course.”
You make brief eye contact as you slip into the room, broken by Captain Y/l/n asking him a question he has to ask to repeat.
The white, oversized button up your wearing isn’t doing much to cover up the bright pigment of your bikini, nor is it even attempting to hide the bare slope of your legs, still sticky and damp from the pool, tracking faint wet marks across the carpet.
Jeb thinks this really might be becoming a problem.
—--
“Oh, before you go!”
Jeb’s hand is already on the handle to the front door, and he turns towards the voice behind him, watches as you walk up to him with a smile. You’re still only wearing that bikini, white shirt buttoned loosely in the middle. Jeb swallows.
You look over your shoulder and step closer than you maybe need to, just so you can speek lower. “We’re throwing a surprise party for Johnny next Friday. For his ten year anniversary as Captain. The cop bar in town at 8? Will you come?”
There’s something about the way you say that last questions, will you come?, the wide hope in your eyes that makes him falter a little before speaking. Jeb smiles. “I’ll see you then.”
request something! masterlist // series masterlist
#i have never been to idaho i am rolling with like 2 pictures and vibes#jeb pyre#jeb pyre x reader#jeb pyre fic#jeb pyre fanfiction#under the banner of heaven#utboh#utboh fic#utboh fanfiction#andrew garfield#this had no write to take me so long but !!!!!
129 notes
·
View notes
Text
Are You With Me? (Draco x y/n) Chapter 10
Summary: Y/N is a Slytherin muggle born. She's used to her house ostracizing her due to her blood status and her friendship with the Golden Trio, especially Draco Malfoy. But during their fifth year, they discover they might need each other more than they think
Read Previous Chapters HERE
Taglist: (message me if you want to be added)
@wanniiieeee @kovaillustrations @icedlattewithalmondmilk @heavensent222 @malfoysluv @cloudroomblog @ashesandblood @itscheybaby @sarahthehuffpuff @relatable-shit @tripleoyaa @dreams-in-blxck @fandomscombine @dracq @abaker74 @marvelxgeek4life @dontstopxx
"No, Harry. There's no way."
"Y/n, please. We could all be in danger." Harry's eyes bore into yours, pleading.
"I'm not going to get information out of Draco for you. I'm not spying on my boyfriend to see if he's a Death Eater," you hiss.
The two of you are seated in the library. It's raining outside, the harsh pitter patter of rain pounding the stain glass windows. Christmas break is approaching in the coming weeks, meaning exams are also on the way. Every Hogwarts student has already started the long journey of studying. Hermione started two weeks ago.
"I know it's not what you want to hear but I know he is. I just need to know what he's up to. He keeps disappearing on the map."
Your eyes widen. "You're spying on him?"
"We don't have a choice y/n. He's up to something, I know it."
You sigh. "Listen, Harry...I know you don't like him-"
"This isn't about liking him! This is about him working for Voldemort."
The desperation is crystal clear in Harry's voice and face. But you can't do what he's asking of you.
"I'm sorry, but you're on your own."
Harry's face falls but he understands. No matter how much he doesn't like it, you care about the blonde headed Slytherin. You can't betray your boyfriend like that. Besides, he's not a Death Eater. He would never do that, especially not to you. He loves you. He's just under a lot of stress right now with his family. He might be a little depressed, but there's no way he's joined Him. Draco wouldn't do that. He's not a Death Eater.
Right?
After finally getting some studying done, you make the journey down to the Slytherin common room. You haven't seen Draco all day so you walk past your own bedroom door and stop outside of his at the end of the hall. You knock three times and immediately hear rustling from inside. The door opens halfway and there he is.
For the first time, you see how tired and drained he looks. There's dark circles below his eyes which are rimmed red, as if he'd been crying. He perks up slightly when he sees you though, opening the door wider for you to come in.
"Is everything okay?" You step across the threshold as he closes the door behind you. You take a seat on the bed and he sits down beside you.
"Yeah, everything's fine. I've just been studying, I'm a little tired." Even his voice sounds exhausted.
"I haven't seen you all day," you say. "I feel like I saw more of you when we were seeing each other in secret." You laugh sadly.
He shrugs. "I've just been busy."
You sigh. He's closing off to you. He's been doing this more and more frequently. Every day, it's like the old Draco you knew was slipping away. You're worried that it's only a matter of time before he's gone for good.
"What did you do today?" He changes the subject. He always does this. The stubbornness in you wants to push him to tell you something, anything. But the kind and understanding part of you wins over. Like it does every time.
"I just came back from studying with Harry."
"Along with Granger and Weasel-bee?"
"No, just me and Harry."
His body stiffens. He stands abruptly, and walks over to his desk. He sits down, his back facing you as he flips through an open textbook.
"Draco? Are you okay?"
"Oh yeah, I'm fine," he says over his shoulder. "I just figured that you might rather study with Potter. I mean, it's not like you haven't seen me all day."
You scoff. "You're the one that's been avoiding me since we came back to school. And when we finally are together, you don't exactly seem thrilled to see me."
"Then go spend time with Potter then. No one's stopping you."
"Why are you so jealous of Harry?" You blurt out.
He lets out a loud laugh, a mocking one. He turns his chair to face you. "Ha! You think I'm jealous of that loser Potter? He should be jealous of me!"
"And it kills you that he isn't, doesn't it? It kills you that he doesn't give a shit about you or your money, or your popularity, or your blood status. Because he should be jealous of you, right? Everyone wants to be you because everyone is beneath you. Because you're a Malfoy, right?"
His jaw clenches. You know your words are harsh but you couldn't stop them from coming out. You also knew it was wrong to bring up arguments from the past but you were too upset to care. You're tired of the way he's acting. You're sick of being his girlfriend only when it's convenient for him.
"I don't think that," he says through gritted teeth. "Not anymore."
"And you continue to push me away, someone who actually cares about you," you say.
After a minute of agonizing silence, he finally speaks up.
"Potter shouldn't be jealous of me," he says softly. "If he was jealous of me, he'd be an even bigger idiot than I thought he was."
His face is sad, his voice somber. He's not even looking at you but instead looking past you. His eyes are glazed over, like he's reliving bad memories.
His eyes finally meet yours again. "I'm sorry I've been pushing you away. I'm just worried about my family. I know it's not an excuse for the way I've been towards you."
You shake your head hopelessly. "I'm just trying to be there for you. Please let me."
You rise from the bed, crossing the room towards him. You snake your hand into his, lacing your fingers together. He brings your joined hands up to his face, pressing a feather light kiss to the back of your hand. He nods, his lips brushing your fingers.
"Are you sure there's nothing else bothering you?" You're not trying to be pushy and annoying, you just care and want him to know he can tell you anything.
"Yes I'm sure. Promise."
You believed him. Maybe you shouldn't have.
***
Ever since the night of Slughorn's party, you had been seeing less and less of Draco. He claims he was gate-crashing but he had never shown any interest in the party when you brought it up. Harry had taken you as his plus-one.
You wrote to Draco over the Christmas break and surprisingly, he responded. They were short and vague but at least you weren't being ignored this time. However, you didn't feel any better about your relationship upon your return to Hogwarts either. He was disappearing again and a couple times, you swore you saw him walking the halls with these two girls you've never seen before. Was he cheating on you? Had he lost interest?
Though you didn't want to admit it, your brain often started to drift off to Harry's theory of Draco being a Death Eater. But you always pushed those thoughts away. You couldn't feed into Harry's conspiracies. Still you doubted.
Now you're seated currently in the Great Hall for lunch. Your eyes trained on the door, searching for your boyfriend. He hadn't shown up to breakfast but you figured he would have to eat eventually. You see Harry, Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table. Usually, you would give up by now and just go sit with them but not today. You were getting more anxious about Draco's absences by the day. This time, it was going to be different. You were going to confront him about it once and for all.
A couple more students filter into the hall. Your head perks up at one but it's not the blonde you're expecting. Katie Bell. Others start noticing her, some whispering amongst themselves and others welcoming her back. Claps and cheers can be heard from the Gryffindor table.
Harry approaches her and you tense. Of course he's going to ask her who cursed her. You don't think you'll be able to stomach it if she tells him it was Draco. You watch, trying to gauge any reaction from either of their faces. Both of their gazes turn towards the large double doors. You follow their eyes. Your blood turns cold.
Draco sees Harry. Then he sees Katie. Without even a glance towards the Slytherin table, he's turning back towards the hallway. You watch in horror as Harry chases after him. You jump up from your seat to follow.
You push past clusters of students, trying to catch up but you lose them in the sea of moving staircases. You take off in the direction you saw them go but the corridor is empty. You pace back and forth, your thoughts running wild.
Draco left as soon as he saw Harry and Katie together. But why would he run? He doesn't even know Katie and he hates Harry. Why would he care about them talking? The only reason he would run is if he got caught doing something. Or if he felt scared. Or guilty. What is he guilty of concerning Harry and Katie? Draco knows who cursed Katie. Draco cursed Katie. Why would Draco curse Katie? Because he's a Death Eater. Draco is a Death Eater, he has to be.
The doors to the sixth floor bathroom burst open. You jump as Moaning Myrtle flies by you.
"MURDER!" She wails hysterically, not even noticing you there. "THERE'S BEEN A MURDER! HARRY POTTER MURDERED DRACO MALFOY!"
***
The next moments were a blur. You remember feeling like all of the air had been sucked out of your lungs. You remember Snape come running, telling you to stay outside. You remember Ron and Hermione appearing behind you, Harry exiting the bathroom looking horrified. You remember crying, screaming at Harry, pleading that Draco wasn't dead.
You don't remember how you got to where you are now: pacing the corridor outside of Snape's office. Ron and Hermione are seated on the floor. Harry has been inside Snape's office for nearly thirty minutes. Thank merlin Draco was still alive, but he was badly injured. Madam Pomfrey refused to let you see him, much to your frustration.
Finally, the door opens and out walks Harry. You make a beeline for him, fresh tears ready to fall.
"What happened?" You cry. "What did you do to him?"
"It was an accident. I didn't know what the spell would do, I swear!"
"You used a spell that you didn't know the result of?! Are you insane?" You want to punch him, but you know it's just the anger talking.
"He tried to Crucio me, I wasn't thinking. It was stupid, I feel awful." Harry pleads with you with his eyes. He looks terrified. You know that he didn't mean to hurt Draco like that. No matter how much he hates him, Harry wouldn't try to kill him ever.
"I told you about that half-blood Prince's book Harry," Hermione quips. She places a hand on your shoulder, consolingly. "You need to get rid of it. Now."
You wipe the tears from your eyes as you get ready to ask the hard question. You stare into Harry's eyes. "He's one of them, isn't he?"
Ron and Hermione both look between you and Harry, waiting for a response.
"He wouldn't try the Cruciatus curse if he didn't think he could do it," you continue, sadness laced through your voice. "He's been practicing."
It was true. Draco would never try to perform a spell, especially in front of Harry, if he didn't think he could do it perfectly. He had to have spent last summer practicing spells like that. That's why he couldn't write you. Everything was starting to fall into place but it only made you feel worse.
"Y/N, I'm so sorry," Harry apologizes, miserably. Of course he wanted to be right about Draco, but not at the expense of his friend.
***
It's been a week now since the incident. Draco's still in the hospital wing but you haven't seen him. It's not like you haven't tried. The day after the accident, you went to see him only to be turned away from Madam Pomfrey.
"He's asked to not have visitors," she had said.
"But I'm his girlfriend," you had pleaded.
You convinced her to go back and tell him you were there. You fought back the urge to cry when she came back and told you he didn't want to see you. Maybe he was angry with you. For what, you didn't know.
You had gone back everyday since, sometimes multiple times a day. But each time, she turned you away. It was hard not to feel discouraged but you just had to wait until he was released.
Today was your lucky day though. You see the all too familiar head of platinum hair enter the Great Hall. His head is down, he's not looking for you. Your heart sinks at the thought of him not caring about you. You watch as he sits at the end of the Slytherin table by himself. He doesn't look bothered that you're not there. He doesn't even glance towards the Gryffindor table to check on you. It's like it's a year ago and you don't exist in each other's lives anymore.
He continues to avoid you the rest of the day. All day long, you see a flash of blonde hair and green robes but then he's instantly gone. He hasn't once tried to approach you. You're not the only one noticing it too. Other students keep looking at you curiously, knowing the Slytherin duo is missing its male counterpart.
Later that evening, you decide to search for Draco. You haven't spoken for a week, he was seriously injured at the hands of one of your best friends. Above all that, he's still your boyfriend (you hope) and you care about him.
He's not in the common room or his dorm or by the lake. You wander the halls for him, spending hours searching every corner of the castle for him. Finally, you remember a last resort. The Astronomy tower.
You quickly climb the stairs to the airy balcony. Sure enough, there he is. His back is to you, his arms leaning on the railing. He hears your footsteps, whirling around, wand pointed at you. You freeze, hands up in surrender.
He relaxes, only slightly, once he realizes it's you. He tucks his wand away. "Sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone."
His voice doesn't sound like his. It sounds...devoid of all feeling and emotion. He's staring at you blankly, as if you're bothering him.
"You've been avoiding me," you respond, taking slow steps towards him.
He shrugs. "I've been avoiding everyone."
"I came to see you at the hospital wing."
"I know. You came everyday." The way he says it so nonchalantly catches you off guard. Like he doesn't care.
"I'm really sorry about what happened. I'm happy you're okay." He only nods in response.
"Why didn't you want to see me?" You don't care how pathetic you sound. You just want some kind of reassurance that he still cares.
"I didn't want to see anyone." His voice still sounds so distant and off. His face still holding that blank expression.
"I thought I wasn't just anyone."
"You're not." He gives you a minuscule smile, taking a tiny step towards you.
"But we shouldn't be together anymore."
The words drive a knife right through your heart. The worst part is he doesn't even seem upset about it. He's saying these words to you as calmly as he might answer a question in class.
You finally find your voice to muster up words. "What? Wh-Why?"
He shakes his head sadly. "It was never going to work out for us, y/n. We come from two different worlds, you know that. You're not fit for my lifestyle."
You can't believe what you're hearing. These are not Draco's words.
"I thought you didn't care about any of that." You blink back the tears as quickly as possible.
"We were just kidding ourselves."
He still has yet to show any emotion and you can't help but feel this ball of anger form within you. Why is he doing this? This is so unlike him and so sudden. What happened over this last week?
"You're lying to me," you respond. "It's because you're working for Him. You've joined them." Your eyes fall to his covered left arm. "Roll up your sleeve."
He shrinks back, a flash of hurt dances across his eyes before quickly disappearing. You narrow your eyes at him. His blank stare is back. He's occluding.
"Roll up your sleeve," you repeat with gritted teeth.
"Y/n, you don't-"
"Stop occluding and roll up your sleeve Draco! Now!" You snap and he instantly silences.
Slowly, he reaches down and rolls up his sleeve to reveal what he's been hiding from you all this time. You softly gasp at the sight. The dark ink swirling atop his perfect alabaster skin. Tentatively, you step towards him. When he doesn't move away, you slowly reach for his arm. Surprisingly, he lets you take his arm as you lightly trace on the mark on his forearm.
When you look back up at him, his occlusion is gone. His piercing eyes hold a mixture of shock and despair. His mouth is moving but no words are coming out. He looks utterly exhausted and terrified. You can't imagine what he's gone through, what Voldemort is putting him through.
Without thinking, you hug him so tightly. He hesitates for a couple seconds before hesitantly wrapping his arms around you. After what feels like forever, he finally pulls away. His sad eyes gaze over you.
"Draco, we can figure something out. Together."
You reach forward to take his hand. As soon as your skin touches his, it's like a switch turns on. He rips his hand from your grasp. His eyes hold no emotion again. Your heart drops to the floor yet again.
"No," he snaps, taking a step back from you. "There is no 'we' y/n. We can't be together."
"You don't actually believe that. Just stop occluding, we can figure it out." You shake your head adamantly.
"It's over y/n. Please just stay away from me. You're going to walk down those stairs and we're going to go back to the way things were. Before any of this ever happened." His voice is hard, his face stoic. You don't even recognize this boy before you.
Your voice is hoarse as it trembles. "That's not what you want, Draco. I know you."
"No, you don't. You don't know what I've done, the things I'm capable of."
"Draco, please." Your eyes are boring into his, searching for any kind of emotion. Any kind of recognition. "I love you."
His jaw clenches and unclenches. Tiny beads of sweat trail his hairline. He gulps hard. "I don't love you."
You feel as if your heart has just been torn out of your chest. You're struggling for air but you can't breathe. You want to leave but you can't. It's as if your shoes have been nailed to the floor. You can't do anything but just continue to stare into his dead eyes. The eyes that don't love you anymore.
He breaks the stare, clearing his throat. "You should go."
The dismissal has you immediately turning on your heel and heading down the stairs. As if you're a puppet and he's the puppeteer, not able to make a move unless he deems it so. You feel as if you've been a puppet this whole time.
A dark feeling of misery engulfs you as you descend the stairs. You can't tell if you're walking fast or slow, you're not even sure what direction you're heading in. You almost don't notice Harry until he skids to a stop in front of you.
He's out of breath, like he was running here. His hands grip the marauder's map tightly, his wand out.
"Y/n! I saw you and Draco on the map in the astronomy tower. I thought maybe he was hurting you. Are you okay?" His words come out in a tumble and you barely comprehend them.
The only thing you can do is sob into his chest.
#harry potter#harry potter imagine#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter series#draco lucius malfoy#draco malfoy#draco malfoy fanfiction#draco malfoy imagine#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy x slytherin!reader#draco malfoy x y/n#draco x reader#draco fanfiction#draco x y/n#draco fluff#hermione granger#ron weasley#hogwarts houses#hogwarts#hp fanfic#hp fanfiction
108 notes
·
View notes
Text
GENRE: fluff
FEATURED: sena, yuki
WARNINGS: none
PROMPT: with coming home, mao, izumi and makoto can at last take a break
WORD COUNT: 697
izumakomao my beloved
"Finally, some peace and quiet!" The silverhead of the trio — Sena Izumi — groaned as soon as he, Isara, and Yuki walked through the door of their shared flat.
"Was being with the rest of Knights really that bad today for you?" Isara asked as he stood in the corridor, shutting the front door and sliding his shoes off and placing them by the skirting board of the plain off-white wall to his left.
"You don't even want to know, Isara..."
"Well, we've all been given a week off for a well worths break now, so you don't have to worry about them so much for the time being. Right now, we can focus on ourselves... and possibly head to bed because it is late." Yuki butts through whilst he knocked his head towards the corridor corner that led down to the bedroom.
"You're right. I suppose."
"I'm not going to bed yet. You guys can go on ahead, though." Isara announces as he takes two steps towards the living room doorway before being grabbed by the collar of his shirt, causing him to halt to a stop mid-step, "we're stopping you right there, mister." The response comes from the silverhead.
"Sorry Isara, but Sena and I made a promise to each other that it's you who especially deserves this break we have freely been given, which means no work at all within the next seven days or so."
"But I need to do the papers for Hasumi or otherwise—!"
Sena tuts and shakes his head side to side, his fierce azure blues focused on Isara sharply. "Those can wait. If I remember correctly, you said those papers aren't even needed until the end of next month. Learn to take a break, Isara. Otherwise, you'll be finding yourself in a grave sooner than expected from over-exhaustion."
A small whine of defeat leaves from the thin gap of Isara's lips.
"The papers will still be in your desk drawers by next week anyways. They're physical objects, so they can't run away if you don't touch them just for a bit." Sena continues.
"Makoto could possibly accidentally put the papers in the bin, though, like he has done, though."
"That was only one time!" Yuki huffed.
Sena then reaches a hand down to Isara's own, doing the same with Yuki a second after. "Now come on. I'm getting cold by standing here and talking, let's go to bed already."
"Alright," Isara let's out a small puff of a sigh as he let Sena drag him along to the trios bedroom.
Once inside, the trio of boyfriends respectfully change out of their day clothing and into their own sets of pyjamas (although, Yuki begged for Isara to wear the onesie he bought the said beaujolais younger last Christmas. He couldn't really say no to it, even if Sena teased him about wearing it — the onesie's two sizes too big on Isara.)
Sena immediately gets under the winter-thick duvet, with Isara climbing into bed beside him, and Yuki follows immediately after. As soon as Isara was halfway to laying down, Sena pulled Isara to lay his head over his chest — not that Isara minded at all, the silverhead was extremely warm in a comforting way.
Yuki pulls himself closer to the duo, laying one arm of Isara's side and just about leaning over Sena, too.
A minute later, Isara could feel his shoulders sagging in relaxation. The quiet of the evening sweeped by fast as he got to lay in bed peacefully with the two he loved the most.
A small, soft smile creases his facial expression as he closes his eyes. Maybe taking a break for a rare moment wouldn't be as bad as he always thought. Isara didn't always need to do any form of work to keep his mind busy, especially with his lovers surrounding him.
Just as sleep begins to wave its way through the ocean called his body, a few kisses were felt from Yuki and Sena. One on the temple and the other on the crown of his head. The kisses were gentle and quick. A few loving pecks.
"Sleep well, Isara."
i mayhaps have an obsession with the idea of mao in onesies...
#enstars fanfic#isara mao#mao isara#ensemble stars#ensemble stars fanfic#izumi sena#makoto yuki#makomao#izumako#izumao#izumakomao#game fanfic#anime fanfic#enstars fic#ensemble stars trickstar#trickstar#knights#ensemble stars knights#trickstar enstars#knights enstars#fluff#oneshot#enstars fluff#enstars#ensemble stars music#ensemble stars fanfiction#ensemble stars game#isara centric#cross posted on ao3#cross posted on wattpad
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hi Hi, just hopping in again here to tell y'all I'm gonna be starting college again tomorrow and needless to say, I wasn't able to rest at all these holidays nor accomplish anything I really wanted to do for myself during these two weeks. Which sucks because I really wanted to shake off some of this damned rust off my system but alas, exhaustion takes over and all I want to do is rest. Also I wanna vent so have all of this because I talk too much and we all love it:
To be honest I'm really stressed out about it bevsue I really wanted to try and do something for myself again but when your life has just been college for almost 4 months and you haven't been able to be with your family or friends... Yeah. Part of me feels guilty about it but at the same time, I needed to have a life outside of collegue.
But that's where my other dilemma comes in and that's the lack of time for my myself. I think this is also due to the fact that I've never celebrated Christmas before like I did this year and found myself a little overwhelmed at so much love but so little time for myself. Honestly ever since I met my new friends last year, life has been a ruckus in the best way possible. They are wonderful and truly do love me for who I am and accept the mess I am. It's a wonderful feeling to have such beautiful people by my side but it's also made me realize how lonely I truly was and how much time I put into making things for myself, because I had too much of it and had nothing else to do with these feelings. A lot of the negative thoughts or simply any needs I had at the time where put into words and that's how I expressed myself. Take that as you will, lol. But it was the only way to really do something meaningful with these feelings.
The thing is, that's changed now. I have friends to talk to about these things who will listen to me and will literally stop everything they are doing to be my side. And it's been wonderful, it's really helped me talk more about my thoughts because while yes, I've gotten emotional and have written bibles about how I felt at the here, (Just like this one!) the truth of thw matter is that no one really knows what the heck is always going though my head. I'm a really private person actually, even if it doesn't seem like it and never talk about the things that really bother me. But I've been working on expressing my thoughts more and it's been both incredibly terrifying and healing. But the issue with this is that most of my inspiration and creativity is gone not because I don't wanna write, it's because I can talk about things more now and have to sit down and express them through stories that I know only I'll understand. Does this mean I'll stop writing? No, absolutely not. But I think my brain has finally calmed down and has let me rest a little. Before I'd just write stuff in my head all the damn time but now? Not really. I can sit down and just chill without having to get up and start writing because of how much I need to put all my thoughts into words. I just simply don't know when I'll be able to really do that again. I have WIPS that I started months ago but haven't finished because my words simply don't want to flow. I want to rest in a way too. I found a new way to express myself and can juggle between writing and talking.
So is this a goodbye? No, not at all. But ever since Specter's birthday last year I've been also dreading going back to my google documents because damn, Damming The Flood left me dry. Literally. And I'm not ready to go back yet. It's been a long time since then and I hate not being able to post more things let alone even write but I think that it's okay to just breathe and work on things when the time is write. A lot of people always commended me for writing so much in so little time but I always hated it in a way, knowing it would end up like this. But it's okay to take a step back, it's okay to rest. The hardest part is telling yourself that it's okay to do those things.
Does this mean I'm on hiatus for the time being? Yeah. I think I am. But I know I'll be back, I just don't know when. Maybe when I've rested properly and my brain has cleared up. Maybe I'll unexpectedly get inspired tomorrow and write nonstop. I don't know. But I've gotta let myself adjust to all these new changes and learn to write when I am ready. And get used to not writing so much. I can't force creativity. I need to reread SN again because I'm forcing myself to write even though I know I cannot build upon a story without reading that event all over again but not in a rush. I need to rest, to read and to talk.
Believe me. I know I'll be okay. I'll be back at my 100% totally not deranged self when the time is right. But for now, I rest and I will be less active here. Same goes for Twitter and my Discord server, I'm gonna try my best to work on my feelings and create something beautiful with them because let's face it, I'm that kind of bastard who loves writing meaningful stuff with my own feelings into account.
So, I'm gonna try my best to do an even better job in college this semester and rest when I can. Things will happen, but when the time is due. So please wait for me a little longer and I promise, I'll be right here when the time is right. So thank you once again to everyone who supported me last year and who will this year, because I will bring you the best of the best when the time is due. This year will be my 3rd year here and it's not gonna be the last. I'll just try my best to not get stressed about this whole order and work on my feelings. Promise. Love you all. Take lots of care. Sending you all of my love. <3
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
another (small small) gift for @startgate13. Tbh I'm glad Manuel was so succesful in Engelberg because the first few days I was agonising what I should do because the story I was trying to bring onto the paper just would. Not. Come.
It's just a short one-shot, a meeting between Marcel and Marco after the last race in Alta Badia, and without any plot. I still hope you like it. And, again, merry christmas.😁🎄
Reality
rating: T
pairing: none
characters: Marco Odermatt, Marcel Hirscher
length: 800 words
He had sounded cheerful earlier during the countless interviews, still his usual stand-up self. Yes, it had been a long week, and he felt a little bit tired now, and yes, he was happy about the set of medals he had won in these four races, and indeed, he was looking forward to the Christmas-break. Away from the cameras and the photographers and the spectators though, somewhere in a narrow alley between the hotel and the parking lot, his mask slipped and revealed the truth: he was not tired, he was exhausted, and he was not looking forward to Christmas but crawling towards it with his last strength, the final thread of hope that let him keep up the jovial façade. He was leaning against the wall of the building like the dozen pairs of skis and sticks next to him, just another tool to be used and put away when done. Marcel had been staring at him without shame for quite some time, and finally he realised it. For a second it looked as if he would try to readjust the mask, put the happy-go-lucky Marco back into the showcase but decided against it eventually. He stayed put when Marcel crossed the road in front of the hotel in Alta Badia, and joined him in the abandoned alley. The sun did not reach the ground there, and he took his sunglasses off.
“Waiting for the afterparty?” Marcel asked, and kept smiling even though Marco did not retort it. In the gloomy twilight, his suntanned skin had an unhealthy tinge, and his hair that had almost glistened in the sunlight on the podium looked positively grey.
“No party,” Marco answered. “At least not for me.”
“I get it,” Marcel said. “It was a long week.”
Marco still did not move one muscle in his face.
“And I guess you still have to buy Christmas presents,” Marcel added.
Marco had his hands stuffed into the pockets of his fiery-red jacket with the countless logos of the Swiss’ sponsors, and Marcel realised that he balled his fists.
“I usually hand out gift cards,” he continued unperturbed. “I’m really not great at giving presents, and with these everybody can go buy whatever their hearts desire.”
Marco took a deep breath, and put all his impatience and strain into the long exhale. “What do you want?”
Marcel picked up one of the skis, and looked it up and down. Again Marco’s fists moved inside his jacket.
“Can I invite you to a drink?”
“And get walloped by Henrik the next time we meet?” It was the first time something approximating a smile washed over Marco’s face.
Marcel grinned. “Don’t flatter yourself.” He kept looking at him, and eventually, Marco shook his head.
“I’m waiting for Chris. He had to go to the gas station down the road but we’re leaving in the next minutes.”
Marcel shrugged. “Okay.” He lifted the skis with both hands, and turned them upside down, taking in the sharp rim that could cut through fabric and skin with ease, the sheet that carried the binding, the curve of the rounded tip.
“Can you stop?”
He tore his eyes off the red skis, and looked back at Marco.
“Please put them back!” Marco said through gritted teeth.
Marcel smiled. “Afraid I’m going to steal company secrets?”
Marco did not answer but his jaw kept grinding. With a soft sigh, Marcel put the skis back against the wall to its brethren.
“I know what you feel.”
Marco snorted. His eyes kept darting towards the street but there still was no bus approaching. “I should think you do,” he muttered. “You’ve won a few times in your day.”
Marcel laughed, and Marco frowned. “My day…” he chuckled. “That sounds like it was decades ago.”
Marco shrugged, and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “In a way…” He looked at the screen, and pushed a few buttons before holding it against his ear. They waited a few moments until Marco softly swore, and put the phone back into his pocket.
“I should go check up on Chris…”
“It’s getting bigger.”
Marco paused, and finally, for the first time, looked directly at Marcel. “Excuse me?”
“It’s getting bigger,” Marcel reiterated. “Reality, I mean. Your reality. Whatever you dreamt about as a little boy, everything is starting to get bigger than that.”
Marco’s mouth was slightly open as he stared at Marcel with a look of dawning realisation. Whatever he was thinking, Marcel was sure it was wrong.
“No, it’s not,” he spat, and Marcel needed all his media training not to burst out laughing. “We’re not the same!”
“Did I suggest that?”
The rising anger brought the life back in Marco’s cheeks. He glared at Marcel. “Whatever you’re trying, it’s not going to work.”
Marcel balled a fist, and exaggerated a punch into the air. “Damn it!” he said before he turned serious again.
“I’m not trying anything,” he said to Marco, knowing full well he did not believe him. “I’m just saying that I’m one of the few people in this world who knows how you’re feeling.”
One of the cars rolling down the main street, a white van with logos from Marco’s jacket on its side, turned into the parking lot.
Marco turned away from him, and started to pick the skis from the wall while his service man jumped out of the car, and opened the hatch.
“So, if you ever do want to talk…”
Marco, his hands full with skis and sticks, looked over his shoulder. Marcel smiled at him, and put his glasses back on.
“Merry Christmas,” he said, and sauntered back into the sunlight.
8 notes
·
View notes
Note
Sleepy, I figured out two things today: how to leave comments on Docs Mobile and that Docs is a fun thing to do on the subway.
Years and years ago, I moved to the city for work. I started off doing an internship just a few blocks from NYU, then landed a job at an indie northward. The summer that all started was, well. Not perfect, but I remember the long subway rides. It takes a half an hour minimum to get anywhere in the city—long stretches underground with no cell service. You had to take things to do to keep yourself stable, assuming of course you weren't dead tired or packed in like sardines (which was likely). I wrote. And read. Sometimes got brave enough to sleep.
Which is to say I understand why working from home is necessary. I'm an advocate for that being a permanent option, actually. But as I'm on minute fifteen of a thirty-minute ride, just now approaching Lexington and 63rd, I'm realizing I miss this being a regular thing. The roar of the subway. Faint chatter from the other end of the car. The smell of stale air and weed through a mask.
I'm not sure if you go to the city all that often, but the older cars have poetry and art in them. Not graffiti, sadly, because they clean that up, but ad posters with poems about the exhausted spirit of the city or something. Feels a little manufactured saying that out loud, but I appreciate there are people like us, tired and cat-napping on subways between scribbles of fantasy ball-pointed in beat-up notebooks. When I first moved to the city, I didn't think I'd like it. I still don't; it's just a city, an object. But it's the people. Shades of them everywhere, just like us.
Which is all to say finally, after many distractions, really getting into dirt in the doing.
But oop, here's my stop. :')
In December, 2014, my college cohort spent 4 weeks in Italy.
I've been to big cities, I've been to small ones. I've roamed old streets and new ones. I've been surrounded by languages I do not speak and foods I've never tried. And in 2014, I spent 3 weeks in Florence, and it felt like coming home.
I had never been, but it felt like I had. Cobblestones and cathedrals, markets and museums. We saw so many antique things, so many beautiful things. On a typical day, we wandered around a gallery with our travel group, admiring and learning. We drank cappuccinos and ate so much pasta. The Christmas decorations were up, a massive tree beaide the Duomo, and large snowflakes of light hung over street signs. Sometimes we'd walk back to the bus in the dark, in the light of snowflakes and angels, holding hands to keep warm, laughing. It felt like home.
Often, I'd break away from the group after we finished the day's outing, and would wander on my own. I had a bus pass and a map, and I never feared getting lost. I've always been good at finding my way through cities when armed with a map. I'd memorize corner shops and street names and stop at the It Cafe for a chocolate muffin on the way back. I'd listen to music on the bus, surrounded by strangers reading or sleeping, and it felt like home.
I don't like cities, as a rule. I live in the country and I love it. I don't prefer the closed in bustle or tall, tall buildings. But for a little while, for enough time to memorize bus stops and find a favorite café, and for the stones under my shoes to feel familiar in the unknown, I do love it, because it feels like coming home.
Do you know what writing letters with you feels like? It feels like coming home.
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Today was a lot. I wish I could just. Be chill. But this whole week has just been a lot. I am exhausted emotionally. I feel slightly better today. But emotionally I am drained.
I slept okay last night. And woke up feeling alright. I had slept with my hair in one bun instead of two and it made my scalp hurt so bad all day. James seemed a little better. Maybe. It was up and down all day.
The plan was to go drop the bike off to get fixed. Then go to target to buy a Christmas ornament. Then we would get groceries.
This seemed like a good plan. The bike shop wouldn't open for a bit. So I got washed and dressed and had breakfast.
I finished catching up on my knitting. I wasn't feeling myself still. But I was trying my best.
We left and I looked over the banister down to where we stored the bike.
And it wasnt there. I was being optimistic and asked James if they already took it outside. I knew they didn't. I knew it was gone. Someone has taken it.
And I was on the verge of a panic attack. I was almost hyperventilating. I was going to throw up. James was much more calm. They went to check outside and down in the basement. I knocked on the neighbors downstairs door. But she said she didn't see it. She actually said she had a bike stolen from the hall before too. Which was really shitty to hear. I wish I would have known that. That's something I felt like neighbors would share with each other? So that we could all be safe if something like that happened.
But whatever. James went outside and I followed. And I was very much in the verge of a breakdown. I felt like a monster. Like an idiot. Like I couldn't fix James but the bike had been mostly okay! That we were going to get it fixed and everything would be okay and back in place. And now it was gone! And I felt like it was my fault. James couldn't carry the bike upstairs and I should have tried harder.
I was very very worked up by the time we got to the car. James was so calm and I was freaking out. I sat there with my head in my hands for a few minutes. When finally James said they would step out of the car for a minute.
I collected myself. We would make an insurance claim. I would try not to fall apart. I would try hard not to blame myself.
James would help. They came back and told me to drive to the post office.
I was still really shaken up. We got to the post office though and I had never been in the main branch before. I liked seeing the entire room of post office boxes. And we got the last stamps for our thank you cards. Me and the nice lady at the desk put all the stamps on the last 20 we had. And that little task made me feel a little more settled.
We drove out to target next. I wanted to get ornaments that made us think of our relationship. And honestly it didn't take as long as I thought it would. James found an oyster plate and I found a set of glitter salt and pepper shakers. And while there were others I liked, those felt the most correct. Me and James agreed and we went to get a few more things. And extension cord. Some nail polish. And then we were off.
We paid at self check out. James was feeling a little wiped. So we went to sit in the car for a few minutes. I didn't mind at all. I appreciated sitting for a moment too.
We walked to the grocery store. Which was weirdly stressful. I dont love Harris teeter. But we got what we needed. Checking out was a little bit of a disaster. Because James wanted to bag. And the "belt" that the groceries come down on was actually a circle and they were getting stuck and it was a mess. Then the eggs got opened and they were spinning all over. So I was like. Absolutely not and made them switch and I did it. I did not bag with any order but I got us out of there and honestly that's all that mattered.
But I was upset. I wanted to get Starbucks before we left but I was so stressed out that I did not stop.
But by the time we got to the car I was really upset. James said we could just stop at the one down the street. And it did made me feel better. Grande pink drink with extra strawberry puree. Something I love to get sometimes but is also stupidly easy to make at home so I should do that more often.
We went to get gas before we went home. James was losing steam. I was losing steam. But we needed gas and James wanted to go to the place we normally go. Even if it was forever away.
We got our gas though and went home. We carried everything upstairs. I carried most of it. James is not supposed to carry more then 10lbs. James put things away though. And I packed away stuff that didn't go in the kitchen
I would tell James they needed to make a police report so we could make an insurance claim. James tried to do it online but wasn't able to because it happened at a residence. And so they would have to actually call 911.
They were not happy about this and were very very stressed.
I tried to just. Clean the apartment. And put things away and organize. I would help James get the laundry started. Going down there wasn't as scary as I felt like it would be. I always joke about being afraid of our laundry room but it wasn't to bad in the daytime.
While the laundry went James made the call. And I started cutting oranges to dry and make a garland. James said that a police officer was coming to take the report in person. So we waited for that.
And when he came he was very nice. But neither of us were happy when we went downstairs and the front door had been propped open. Like. It was embarrassing. The downstairs neighbors were having an "event" and had a sign for people to come in and I was just. Furious. I spoke to the cop. Told him about James getting into the accident. What happened with the bike. James would fill in details. I was the stronger voice for sure. The officer was very kind though and very sympathetic. He gave us all the info we needed and he wished us luck and healing. Very emblematic of how people can have warm feelings to personal interactions with certain cops. He was very kind, but I still very much don't trust cops.
We went back upstairs. The apartment smelled so nice with the cinnamon candle I had going and the oranges baking. And I kept trying to clean up the apartment and make it nice in here. James got back in bed. Eventually we would get all the laundry and put things away.
I spent some time just laying on the couch. And eventually moving the James's room to continue to play Pokemon. Progress has been made but I'm still hunting for the last one.
James made Mac and cheese for me.
I would go and trim my bangs and take a shower. I washed my hair. And when I was done I did a little eye mask. Tried to make myself feel okay.
I was very excited to see my frogs swimming around. And then James said I could cut their hair. I put a chair in the shower and did my best. I did cut it shorter then I wanted but James wanted it shorter in the back. So I did my best but it was tough when James can't really turn their head. But it's fine.
James showered. I vacuumed all the hair. And when James was done we got back in bed.
This whole week has been horrible. Like for real. We keep joking. And trying to push through. But this week sucks. I hope tomorrow doesn't feel so heavy. Callie is going to come by to drop off a gift. Which is very kind of her. I hope to make some progress cutting fabric but I have no real plans. I just want it to be a good day.
I hope you all sleep well tonight. Take care of each other. Goodnight everyone.
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
Can you do one where Sirius and Remus spend Christmas alone together at Hogwarts?
"James, don't be ridiculous," Remus pleaded. "Find McGonagall and take your name off the list of students who are staying here over the holidays." James stared at the letter in his hands and took a deep breath.
The Christmas of 1977 would be the day after a full moon. It had been a tough decision, but Remus decided that going home over the holidays wasn't a good idea.
His mum was unwell and, despite what his parents said, he knew his transformations took a lot out of them as well as him.
What he'd momentarily forgotten was that in trying to spare his parents from an exhausting Christmas eve, he had indirectly dragged the marauders into it.
But the day before the holidays were due to start, James had received a letter. His dad had been taken to hospital. He would be fine, he'd be home for Christmas, but he refused to have James stay at the castle with him. He would have argued that Fleamont was Sirius' dad too but he knew better than to try and get Sirius to go home.
"Peter, you go as well," Remus said, turning to him. Peter hated staying at the castle over the holidays. His mum was usually alone on Christmas if he wasn't there.
"Remus... are you sure? How will you stop the tree if I can't—"
"We'll find a branch or something," Sirius supplied. "Touch the knot, it'll be fine. Right Moony?"
"You know, Sirius, I have madam Pomfrey, you could—”
"Don't be an idiot, Moony.”
Which is how Remus found himself in the hospital wing on Christmas morning, his head achy, his bones throbbing, and his hand being held.
He blinked against the blinding light of the room to see Sirius, asleep in his chair with his hand loosely gripping Remus’. And suddenly Remus was reminded of why it had been a bad idea to agree to spend the Christmas holidays alone with Sirius.
The last week or so had been fine, they went out in the snow and played chess by the fire and woke up to the room absent of James disturbing their sleep or Peter’s snoring. Remus, however, had been painfully aware of his feelings for Sirius the entire time, and Sirius didn’t help to diffuse the situation at all.
It was strange. There were moments where Remus would be certain what he felt was entirely unreciprocated, and then there’d be moments like this. He squeezed Sirius’ hand and felt him stir, watching as he slowly blinked awake.
“Sorry,” he mumbled. Remus had thought he was talking about holding his hand until he squeezed back, not letting go, and sat further upright. “Fell asleep.”
“Don’t apologise. Actually, do. How many times have I told you to sleep in the dormitory?”
Sirius rolled his eyes and yawned. “I’m sorry for this, too.” Remus raised an eyebrow in confusion and Sirius finally let go of his hand, only to gently trace his cheek. It stung, and Remus hadn’t even realised he’d been injured there. “Harder to keep the wolf at bay without James.”
“It’s fine, honestly. Just a scratch, it’ll fade. Hey… I didn’t get you, did I?” Sirius opened his mouth, closed it again, and that was all the answer Remus needed. “Shit, where?”
“Just my chest. It’s fine, Remus.”
“It isn’t! The wolf scratches don’t fade, you know that! I shouldn’t have asked you to stay, we need James to—”
“It’s Christmas, Remus. Lighten the fuck up.” Remus felt his face relax slightly and he laughed, which made Sirius laugh too.
Eventually, Sirius helped Remus out of the hospital wing and into the common room, which they had to themselves.
It was an incredibly quiet Christmas at Hogwarts. Remus put it down to what the whole wizarding world was saying at the moment: there was going to be a war and parents wanted their children home. But as Remus watched the snow fall, curled up under a blanket next to Sirius, it was hard to believe there’d be anything of the sort.
“Can I give you your present?
Remus narrowed his eyes. “You already gave me my present last week with James and Peter. And you were far too generous.”
“It’s just something small, I promise.” He was running up the stairs to the dormitory before Remus could even protest.
“If I suspect that this cost too much money—”
“It didn’t,” Sirius said, cutting him off. “I already promised, don’t you trust me?”
Remus accidentally caught his eye for a moment too long before hurriedly looking away, trying to hide his laugh as Sirius handed him the present. Sirius was absolutely appalling at wrapping presents, even when he tried to do it with magic.
He carefully removed the paper to reveal a framed photo that Remus hadn’t seen before. It must have been taken recently. In it, Sirius was brushing snow off of Remus’ coat, throwing his head back in laughter at something he was saying.
“James gave it to me recently, said he came across it and thought I’d like it. I thought maybe you wanted a copy too?”
Remus didn’t know what to say. There was a moment in the photo where he looked away, and the way Sirius looked at him whilst he wasn’t paying attention made his heart flutter. “Thank you. It’s… it’s a really nice photo.”
"I thought so too," Sirius said, simply.
They settled into silence and Remus tried hard to ignore the way Sirius was sat far closer than he needed to be or the way his eyes seemed to be fixed on Remus' profile.
“It’s weird,” Sirius said after a few moments of silence, “but I don’t think I’ve ever spent more than a few hours alone with you in the seven years we’ve been here. It’s always the four of us and then me and James over the holidays.”
“There was those two days where both James and Peter were in hospital with concussion in fifth year.”
Sirius laughed at the memory. “I’d almost forgotten about that. Do you think madam Pomfrey actually believed they’d both fallen out of a tree?”
“Absolutely not. I’m pretty certain she knows you lot spend the full moons with me, to be perfectly honest. She’s never believed our bullshit stories for a second. It’ll be weird when I leave this place… not having her after the moons.”
“You’ll have me,” Sirius said, quickly. “And James and Peter, of course. I, uh, I wasn’t going to mention it just yet but she’s actually been showing me how to do all the healing stuff.”
Remus readjusted his position to see Sirius better. “You what?”
“Well… Four months ago I asked if I could shadow her as she healed you. Told her I wanted to know what to do once we’ve left Hogwarts. That’s sort of why I don’t go back to the dormitory at all anymore. Whilst you sleep, she shows me how to do some of the potions and spells and all that. James and Peter stick around sometimes too.”
Remus just gaped at him for a moment. “You… you don’t have to do that. It’s unbelievably sweet of you but—”
“How many times, Remus? I know I don’t have to do it. You’re not some… some burden I feel like I need to do all this for. I do it because I want to. Like how I wanted to become an animagus and how I want to spend the day after full moons checking up on you and like how I wanted to stay at the castle this Christmas, with you, because…” He trailed off.
“Because what?” Remus asked, a little breathlessly.
Sirius let out a huff of breath. “Because… because I care about you,” he settled on. “Because you’re my… my Moony.”
“I’m yours, am I?” he quipped. The look on Sirius’ face made him regret the joke instantly.
“I dunno,” Sirius said, quietly. “Are you?”
And what was Remus supposed to say to that? He wasn’t even sure what the question meant, it could mean so many things, and yet Remus slowly, but assuredly, nodded. “Yeah. I think… yeah.”
At some point during the conversation they must have moved even closer together, and it was only when Sirius lightly cupped his face that Remus really noticed how little space he’d have to close to kiss him. Which he did. And the smile he could feel on Sirius’ lips made his heart swell.
“Are you sleepy?” Sirius asked, softly, his face still close. Remus checked the time. It was still the middle of the afternoon. They should be with the teachers in the great hall eating Christmas dinner, or outside on the snowy grounds. But he was exhausted, and so he nodded.
“Okay. Let’s take a nap and then I’ll go to the kitchens and get some food or hot chocolate or something when we wake up, yeah?”
“You’re too nice to me,” Remus groaned, reluctantly standing from the sofa.
Sirius had said it so quietly that Remus could quite be sure he’d heard correctly. But it had definitely sounded like “Because I love you, idiot.”
#wolfstar#wolfstar fluff#Christmas#Remus Lupin#Sirius black#marauders#Harry potter#wolfstar fanfic#wolfstar fanfiction#wolfstar headcanon
430 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
wigetta-strongfeline
dani;alm
pepomellark
the life of a monophobic
pepomellark
the life of a monophobic
curpipup
CURPIPUP
careyeckerteliterealtor
Carey Eckert Elite Realtor